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08-10-2015, 03:28 PM
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It appears that this stallion was thick in some way--perhaps demented. He wasn't getting the sense that he meant nothing to me, that it would take a great deal more than flirtation to change that. He asked for my name with boldness, as if it was his right to know it. I exhaled, white breath steaming and swirling before my features, catching moist on the fine white hairs that decorated my muzzle. My forehooves ached and shifted, my hind pair halted. Apparently he wasn't going to walk with me, or away from me, just unfortunately closer. Luckily for me, before the silence became too lengthy for either of us to get past it, another appeared. A mare not unlike the stallion, draped in earthen hues and painted with stripes, sporting a pair of antlers. Just as I wondered if they were related, the stallion made some lewd remarks that are not for a child's ears. And then it was quiet again. They had their exchange, greeted each other as old acquaintances, maybe lovers, and left me to answer them. They looked at me like I was impossible, then. Like they could not comprehend my quiet. Maybe they couldn't, talkative beasts that they were. Others love to talk about themselves to the point where they will forget you have a voice. I lived this way for a long time, quiet in the company of creatures who didn't care to notice. But when I came to this land of conversation, this Helovia, my silence became something of an inconvenience. I was expected to speak and answer, too many years too late. I learned the power of my voice after I gave birth to you, son, and ever since I've regarded it differently. Not to be stamped upon or quieted, no, but not to be squandered or so easily called upon, either. My voice is my power, perhaps the only power I have. I would never give that up, never, for anyone but you. Understand that, please. I would let myself be locked into silence, or allow the wicked to draw every word ever spoken from my tongue and bend me to tell them anything, if I could see you again. At that point, it became obvious that my presence was making the pair uncomfortable. I wondered if they had never met one marked as I was, or if my reticence was simply a burden they weren't willing to bear. But the mare seemed kind enough, and I saw no reason to eschew her as I did this brutish stallion. So I cast him a still and quiet look, the kind that would rob anyone of ease, and then directed all comments to the mare. She, at least, would not be after my back. There are a lot of things I could have said to him, a lot of things you could say to anyone who speaks ill of or to you. But he wasn't worth the exhalation, son. And responding to that sort of behavior will only encourage. Keep your venoms to yourself. It is there, unspoken in your breast as lingering threats, that they are the most deadly. "Thank you," I answered, a bare hint of warmth in my tone. My blue eyes, dulled now from exhaustion, were focused only on the mare. "I'm looking for a place to rest, would you know of one?" I turned, my head snapping back and long hair flying with it, back to the stallion. "Don't answer that. I'm not asking you." My tone had no mercy, my eyes rolled and the words rattled out into the air with sudden ferocity. He would learn, if not now then later, that his impishness would not be tolerated. What do you think they expected of me? Kindness? I have lost so much, son. I have suffered. Do you think he would speak so out of turn, if he had known my life? Ahvelyn i wanted to tell you that things would be different this time |
